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Show I THE WORTH OF A PENNY. I'm mlv a buttered pnny. Ami liavc lost my poklon sliino. r.ni I'll vonturo there &ro. not rnany W'uli a record better than mine. I I'vr paid for many a dainty. I For rakes and Ringer snaps, (';in lies and pum a plenty, ml iMore than 1 oucht. uerhans). (I'piH-ils find pens and paper, pins, marbles and ribbons red. And more than once, for the hungry I've furnished a. loaf of bread. ,w pve paid postage on many a letter, I've traveled half over ihe earth, .Vi.I made it brighter and better Kv many times my worth. 51 v life's been a husv work-day, ' To accomplish all I've told, p-ir vou see by the date of my birthday I'm only ten years old. If so small a picto of copper Can find so much to do. I think it only proper For vou to be useful, too. KUa Josephine Kraal. AUNT BUSY HAS HER SAY. !Dear Nieces and Nephews: Aunt Busy has not much to say, only that she is afraid her girls and boys are forgetting her. She is not receiving very many letters lately. , Now do not neglect her, as you some times do. It only takes a few moments to write to her and she does love to hear from you. Also remember that the other neices and nephews look for the letters, too. Aunt Busy wants to receive some more answers aobut what trait of character you like best. Now get right to y work, dear youngsters, and write to Your Loving AUNT BUSY. LETTERS AND ANSWERS. Salt Lake City, July 22. Dear Aunt Busy: I am only going to write a few lines this time. How r.re you enjoying the summer days? I often think of you. I am going with my papa and mamma to the canyons on August 1. I will send you some tressed wild flowers, like the little girl from Montana did. Goodbye. Your loving niece. FLORENCE 1IATNE. May Aunt Busy's dear niece have a erv pleasant trip is Aunt Busy's k wish. Do not forget her while you are away. Butte City, Mont., July 23. My Dear Aunt Busy: It is many moons since I wrote to you. I thought for a while that I was too big to write ? to you, but lately I wanted to write anv way. I am over fourteen and I will soon enter the high school. The trait of character that I like best is humility. I do not like proud people. Do you like them. Aunt Busy? I hope you will soon write and tell us what vou like best. Your loving niece, MARY HANNIFAN. Delighted to hear from you again, Mary. Dear, little girl, do try not to get ideas into your pretty head about being too old. You are only a baby yet, dear, in Aunt Busy's old eyes. Never feel old until you reach the seventy sev-enty mark. Aunt Busy never troubles her head bv paying attention to proud people. She is only sorry for them to be so ,1 foolish. Providence generally takes ' I the surplus pride out of them anyhow. Aunt Busy thinks you have selected a very beautiful trait of character. A LESSON IN ANATOMY. f JTow many bones in the human face? Fourteen when they're all in place. How manv bones in the human head? Kight. itiv child, as I've often said. How manv bones in the human ear? Kicht in each and they help you hear. How manv bones in the human spine? Twentv-four. like a climbing vine. ITow manv bones in the human chest? Twentv-four ribs and two of the rest. How manv bones the shoulders bind? Two in each one before, one behind. How manv bones in the human arm? In each arm two: two in each forearm. How manv bones in the human wrist? Kicht in each, if none are missed. How manv bons in the palm of the hand? Five In each -w'l.i .. '.iv a baud. How manv bc.,u j the fingers ten? Twenty-eight. : i ' i.y joints they bend. I How many bow 1;. ti e human hip? fine in each. lik: a dish they dip. How manv bones in the human thigh? (me in each, and deep they lie. , How manv bones in the human knees? v One In each, the kneepan. please. How manv bones in the leg from the Two in each: we can plainly see. How manv bones in the ankle strong? Seven in each, but none are long. How many bones in the ball. of. the foot? ' Five in each, as the palms are put. How manv bones in the toes half a score? Twentv-eisht and there are no more. A VETERAN FAKIR'S WISDOM. He Made Money Selling Patent Medicine Medi-cine in Maine. (Boston Herald.) "Fakirs". ar; born and not made. It is the man with the sharpest wits who can make a good living separating people peo-ple from their money. Fakirs outside tkeir "business" hours are, as a rule, interesting when one becomes enough acquainted to swap stories with them. "I never enjoyed myself more than I did on a patent medicine trip through a dozen of the small towns of Maine iwo years ago," said a fakir to a Boston Bos-ton Herald reported in a South Shore town several days ago. "I met more strange characters on that trip than ever before in my eltven years' experi- ' ( ,-nee Bill Freeman, a bright fellow I became acquainted w ith in Boston only a month befoie, went with me. We started in about October in a small , town in Maine to introduce a new kind of sarsaparilla' 'for advertising pur poses only,' as we told the people. This is how we worked the graft. One of us would go to a house and give 'em a talk about the medicine now being made in this country for the first time. 'To introduce It,' we told them 'we n-pyld sell one bottle for 50 cests. three for $1, but arter that the price would be strictly $1 a bottle. Meanwhile, one of us would have gone around to see the leading druggist, and been allowed to stamp his name on our labels. Then we pointed out his name to the 'customer.' 'cus-tomer.' and said: 'You know that he is perfectly reliable in every way.' That usually brought them. In one'of every five houses we sold the three bottles for $1, and in three of the other four we sold one bottle. unere did we get the sarsaparilla? sarsaparil-la? ' Ye mixed that up in a room at the hotel nights. The bottles, stoppers and labels cost us 3 cents to the bottle. The ingredients of the medicine cost us Ht cent per bottle, and, of course, water was the principal ingredient. The sarsaparilla would never harm any one, and, on the other hand, I never knew of its helping anybody. We did a good business in each of the twelve towns, but it was no use to try to work a town larger than 1,500 population. "Ever try Massachusetts?" asked the reporter. "Yes, I used to work the South Shore towns six or eight years ago," answered an-swered the fakir; "but since the people began to read the city newspaper every day, us fellows have been practically forced from the field." i "Once I sold trick cards. After load- ing up early in the evening with about forty or fifty packs that cost 4 cents a pack by the 100, I left my room and wandered down the principal street of the town where I happened to be. Selecting a convenient alley, I threw down my cap and began pitching pennies pen-nies into it until a crowd gathered. Of course, they would swarm down, like bees on a June morning, to see how foolish I was acting. " 'Well, grentlemen,' I then told them, 'I have given you a little amusement by the accuracy of my pitching the pennies, and now I will endeavor to give you a little more entertainment. Now, you see the cards (producing a pack and shuffling them), and now you don't. Well, after giving 'em a dozen or so of my best tricks, 1 told them that any one could do the same tricks just as well as I had done them by simply following the rules, which were given with each and every package. Then I proceeded to sell out at 10 cents each. "Yes, any one could do the tricks just as well as I did them but I think it would take ten years practice first. You see, I traveled with a sleight-of-hand man with a show one year, and as it came sort of natural to me, I picked up the business easily. "Perhaps the greatest graft is shaving shav-ing soap. If a man won't buy knives, cards or books, he will invariably purchase pur-chase shaving soap. Every blessed son of Adam seems to have a weakness for this one article. For several seasons I sold this staple article in the smaller cities nights. I secured a lot of pamphlets pam-phlets entitled 'Is Marriage a Failure?' Fail-ure?' at 50 cents per 100. Then I set up my stand on some convenient corner and told 'em I was introducing a superior su-perior shaving soap 'for advertising purposes only' you see that phrase is our old stand-by. Going to give it away absolutely free of cost, is what I told 'em. Then I explained that, to stop having to give the samples to every boy and those who had no use for them, I would offer the little books at the ridiculous price of 10 cents, one dime, per copy. With each and every copy of the book went a full-size stick of the soap. Then they, sold like hot cakes. The soap I cut up during the forenoon in my room. It cost me about 5 cents I for a dozen "sticks," I should judge. 1 xen, iiicic t uiuutry in i ue centrum, and I worked nights only for three or four hours. Did my work in the morning morn-ing and got things together for night. Usually went around seeing the town in the afternoon." "After that patent medicine trip," continued the fakir, "I went through Maine again with another fellow selling sell-ing crayon pictures of 'prominent' residents resi-dents of each town. We borrowed each man's photograph who would agree to take a picture of us free of all charge, upon the only condition that he would hang it on the parlor wall after it was finished. When the crayons were finished fin-ished we carried them around to the 'prominent residents' and sold 'em all a frame, making enough on that to pay all expenses and a fair profit also. j S & "I got stranded in a town with this same Bill Freeman once. He hadn't eaten for nearly thirty-six hours, and I was feeling pretty hungry. Bill was a resourceful man. We passed a blacksmith black-smith srpf and he stole a can of snow-flake snow-flake axle grease that was setting outside out-side the door. Then he went to a drug store half a mile away and begged a pillbox. He sold the pillbox full of the at!i n-pnsp for corn salve, went back and bought more boxes, and at night we had $6.20 apiece." "Did you ever work at the agricultural agricul-tural fairs?" asked the reporter. "Only once, when I sold whips, four for $1 at first and later seven for $1. There was fair money in it, but it has been overworked in this state." "I find selling easily made things to people I can get interested inthem not half bad so far as making a" living is made. And there is no end of fun to it, provided a fellow looks at things rightly. right-ly. It is a game of wits against wits, for some of the people from the rural districts are not so slow as many imagine. im-agine. I am just looking around some of my old ground now. In about two weeks I start north again on a trip for advertising, purposes only, " he concluded. |